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Tuesday, March 10, 2015

Writing Exercise - Under the Desk

“No, I don’t think you heard me,” Ethan’s voice was even,
soft even, as he stared across the room, through the open door, and out at
Michelle’s desk. “Well, Frank, if you can’t be there for the closing, I think
it’s time I found another property lawyer.” He knew she could hear him, knew
she recognized the tone in his voice, but she didn’t turn toward his office. Does
she know I am watching her? Can she feel it?

“Mister Barrett, I don’t think that’s necessary. I mean,
you and I have had a long…”

“Yes, Frank, I understand. Please send Michelle your final
invoice. Thank you for all your help over the years.” Michelle turned her head
at the sound of her name and met Ethan’s gaze. She’s really quite
pretty.Ethan looked her over. Her posture was perfect; her back as straight
at the cricket bat that leaned against the wall near his window. Her hair was
wrapped around a black onyx chopstick, a Christmas present he had picked up in
Tokyo the year before.

She smiled and then returned to the stack of paper in front
of her.

“Mister Barrett, wait just a…”

Ethan set the receiver down and stepped over to the window
at the back of his office. “Michelle?”

The young woman stepped into through the door and swept a
rogue curl of blonde hair out of her face. “Yes, Mister Barrett?”

“We need a new property lawyer.”

She swiped a finger across the tablet in her hand. “Yes,
sir.”

Ethan sat down behind his desk and watched his assistant as
she concentrated on the tablet. She was dressed in a simple black skirt, a
white blouse, and black high heels that had a number of straps around the
ankle. She wore the shoes for me. He almost smiled at the
thought. The straps were meant to remind him, the straps, and the
little red tie around her neck.

“Which firm would you like to approach,” she looked up from
the tablet.

“Ingram’s firm has some new blood. Imra, that was her name.”

Michelle’s fingers worked the tablet furiously and, within a
moment, she had the name. “Bridgette Imra, yes, she’s at Ingram and Fletcher.
Would you like me to contact her?” She looked up and the little rogue hair
escaped her ear and fell across her left eye. She lifted her hand and tucked it
behind her ear a little embarrassed by the way Ethan stared at her.

“Yes, call Fletcher and tell him I’m coming over tomorrow to
meet with him, Ingram, and Miss Imra.”

Michelle’s touched her screen. “Absolutely, what time would
you like me to tell him?” She didn’t look up.

“Six o’clock,” Ethan touched his desktop, the little inset
screen in the corner, and the windows tinted to forty-percent, darkening the
entire room in shades.

Michelle didn’t look up. Her feet shifted like she had to
suddenly adjust her weight to remain upright, and she bit the corner of her
bottom lip. Control, Michelle. Ethan watched her hands, they
trembled as she manipulated the tablet, and he could almost feel her
struggling. Come on, he thought,you can do this.

Michelle finished her notes, took a deep breath, without
being too obvious, and composed herself before she looked back at her employer.
“Is there anything else, sir?” Her voice betrayed the slightest hint of
excitement but her eyes were steady and firm.

“That was well done,” he was being honest, she had learned a
great deal of control over the past two weeks.

She blushed, “thank you, sir.”

“Come here,” he looked over and thought of the first night
he had begun teaching her.

She took a step and then froze, “Miss Thompson, from
downstairs will be arriving any minute.”

Ethan held out his hand. “Yes?”

Michelle stepped toward him, her eyes went wider with each
step, but he could see the struggle. She wanted to run into his arms, wanted
him to take her and pull her close.

He watched her walk, watched each stride as she moved across
the room. She really was beautiful. She stopped a foot from him, he could smell
her perfume.

She looked up at him. “Yes, sir?” Her voice quivered
slightly, like she was barely able to force herself to obey.

“Under the desk,” Ethan pointed to the dark, little alcove
his chair filled.

“Yes, sir.” Michelle swallowed and turned toward the desk.

Ethan watched her tight little ass swing as she walked away
from him and remembered the red tie he had worn the first night, the tie he had
used to blindfold her and then to tie her hands to the bed.

She set the tablet on the desk, bent over slowly, allowing
Ethan to watch the black skirt as it rode up, and showed off the
charcoal-colored stockings.

He wanted to tear them, wanted to reach down and forcibly
remove and reveal the round cheeks of her ass. Control, he
thought.

She climbed into the cubby-sized hole and turned around. The
look on her face was priceless, her eyes shined with expectant delight. It had
been weeks since Ethan had touched her, weeks since he had taken her home and
shown her what a master really was.

Ethan took a breath and completely ignored the young woman
under his desk. “No, Ellen, it’s fine. She just stepped out. Come in.” He
walked over to his desk, waited until Ellen had taken a seat, and then sat and
moved his chair forward.

“You wanted to talk about the recent developments with
J3Th?” Ellen voice started. “As you know, testing for J3Th…”

Michelle’s fingers were on his thighs, slowly rubbing the
tops of his legs, slowly moving higher.

Ethan took a deep breath. “Yes, Ellen, I know about the
testing, what I was concerned with was the consistent budget overruns in your
department.”

Ellen sputtered for a moment. “Yes, well, as you know, the
drug has shown a marked improvement in…”

Ethan stopped listening as Michelle’s patience faltered. The
rubbing stopped and her nimble fingers worked the zipper of his pants, and then
scrambled inside to pull his cock free.

He focused on his breathing, staring at Ellen while she
talked and making mental notes of the words of the coming out of her mouth.

It wasn’t easy. Michelle’s hands were eager, and once his
cock was free, exposed to the cool air conditioning of the office, he almost
visibly shivered when Michelle’s mouth enveloped him.

“Budget! You’re over budget, Ellen.” Michelle’s fingers
wrapped around the base of his turgid member and began stroking him while she
bobbed her head back and forth.

“Yes, I understand, but if you can give the team a little
more time, I think…”

Ethan shifted in his seat. He could barely focus. His cheeks
felt hot, and his heart was beating like he had just finished a run.

Michelle’s mouth was so hot, so wet and the way she sucked,
and tugged and wrapped her rough little tongue around the tip.

He thought of the red tie, the way he had bound her hands
while he had buried his head between her legs, the way she had squealed while
he had sucked her clit.

Every part of him wanted to reach under the desk and grab
the back of Michelle’s head. He needed to fuck her face, needed to thrust his
hips into her eager mouth.

“How many more days?” He wondered if Ellen heard the strain
in his voice.

Ellen glanced at the window behind him and then back.
“Seven. We need seven more days.”

It felt like his cock was at the back of Michelle’s throat;
like she had swallowed every inch of him and the familiar pressure was starting
to build. His chest tightened and he felt short of breath as he focused on
trying to h

Can I do it? Can I come right now in front of Ellen
without her knowing?

He felt Michelle shiver. Her mouth, her hand, she quivered
around him and he realized she had just cum, silently, on the end of cock. And
it was too much.

He took a little breath and stared down at his desk like he
was considering what Ellen was saying when, in reality, he was shooting his
seed in Michelle’s mouth.

She swallowed and then slid off his cock as he contracted
again and again.

“That’s fine, Ellen.” Ethan said, “Seven days.”

Ellen stood and offered her hand, but Ethan just looked at
it and then the door.

When she was gone, he pushed the chair back and stared down
at Michelle. She was a mess. Most of her smiling, happy face was covered in his
cum and there was a glistening wet spot on her stockings.

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